His new Queen
by thehornetsnest
Summary: Years after Leslie's death, Jess slowly goes insane. He wants nothing more than to find a new Leslie; a new Queen of Terabithia. He looks for suitors between the ages of ten and fourteen and drowns the girls in the river when they do not meet his standards. Seemingly out of luck, he finds a young girl named Colinaphen who he decides is worthy and kidnaps her.
1. Chapter 1

Colina, light of my life, ink of my pen. My sin, my Queen. Co-lee-na: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Co. Lee. na. She was Co, plain Co, in the morning, standing four feet eleven in a striped neon sock. She was Cola in converse. She was Colly at school. She was Colinaphen on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Colina. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Colina at all had I not loved, one year, an initial girl-child. In a rural farm by a river bank, a murderous rope dangleing on a tree branch above. Oh when? About as many years before Colina was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.

Leslie trotted into my life briefly, each soft step as graceful as a little nymphet like herself could make it. She was a crafter of the imagination with hair like straw in the sunlight. She had eyes as blue as the paint in the set she gave me for my thirteenth birthday; as blue as the murkey water that drowned her.

Leslie and I were destined, yet I didn't see it until it was far too late. Another pair of saphire eyes, much like hers had bewitched my mind. A woman much older, Ms. Edmunds. Long ebony hair that fell upon her fragile shoulders and her pale skin glowing like an angel in itself. She was likely a Nymphet in her school days, transforming into her original self with age and using the powers she had left to suck me in. Working for the treturous theives.

I was a faunlet in my own right and look at me. Look at what I have become. A predator. A terror who will not rest until he has his craving fulfilled. I now am aware of the trap that the seraphs set up for me. They muddled my mind and rearranged my very focus so that I wouldn't notice as my Leslie was stolen from this life of mine, this life that I am stuck enduring before we can be reunited.

It took years of failed candidates, to find a replacement suitable; but I had my fair share of possible Queens. Ones that I could take with me to the woods, to the treehouse where Leslie and I once played. I had taken a girl-child named Nichole who reminded me of my past love. She had many of the characteristics of a Terabithian Queen. There was first the large eyes of blue. Then the creative flare of clothing that caught my eye. She wore layers of color, similar to my Leslie's and she had a dash of her charisma and charm; but she failed in one respect. She was no leader. She quaked in fear, peading me to take her from the magical land. I suppose she lacked imagination. I drowned her at dawn.

I disposed of all the failed queens over the years. If none were a match of my Leslie, I would dispose of them in a heartbeat. I chose drowning, because no Queen left Terabithia alive if they were still an adolecent. Not under my watch, I was the king.

Maybelle was the last Queen, but she grew up. I allowed her to move on freely. She was my sister. Not _my_ Queen. She could have invited her own king for romantic purposes, her own masculine version of Leslie. She had a few prince's in her school days. I didn't mine. I asked her to stay so that she could help rule the land, but she declined saying that the game was over and told me that I should move on. I asked for her return on my thirtieth birthday, alas she again rejected the idea and suggested I seek therapy. She lived only because she was my flesh and blood.

It was when I met Colina that I knew. I knew that she was the one. I was working at the art museum. The one that I attended on that fateful day with Ms. Edmunds. My job was to watch and make sure no items were stolen. I liked to look at the art, even though it made me sob quietly everytime I saw an artifact that had been there on the day of Leslie's death. The pain was too much sometimes.

I spotted Colina by an ancient model of swords. They were so well crafted that they looked real down to the gleam of the blade, when they were simply crafted out of paint and styrophome. Very impressive. I hoped to one day add my own work here if I could muck up the courage.

Colina had taken it upon herself to pick up a sword, despite the sign's deliberate letters:

**DO NOT TOUCH**

I was not entranced by her just yet. I was too miffed that she had shown no regard to the rules of the museum. This was a sacred place and she needed to know her boundries. I swiftly made my way over to the little rat of a girl, snatching her arm in my hold so she could not move it. She looked up at me with frightened bambie eyes of blue. I glared down into them with a harsh fire of fury. But, lo and behold, I ended up melting myself.

One would think it cliche' to fall in mere seconds, simply by a pair of eyes. Yet, here I was. I could see Leslie within them. This girl had chin length hair of jet black with a fringe that fell slightly above her soft brows. Her features were innocent and tender, like Leslie's. She looked strikingly similar. It was a pain like no other, but it was paradise as well.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir!" The girl spoke with a tremble in her tone. '"I was just looking, is all!"

I smiled a little, while remaining firm and still keeping her small arm in my hand. She was taller and lankier than my Les, but she was still perfect in her own right. I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

"Well, looking and touching are two different things." I told her, releasing her arm and lowering my hand to my side. She looked on the verge of tears, her puppy dog eyes resembleing Leslie's the day she had gone to console Janice Avery in the girls restroom at school.

"What is your name?" I found myself asking.

"Colinaphen." She answered, still weary.

"Colinaphen." I repeated in a hushed voice. The name rolled off my tounge so sweetly. "I'm Mr. Aarons, but you can call me Jess."

Colinaphen swallowed with a little nod. She looked as though she would rather be anywhere but that museum. I scanned her over. Her style was what I wanted to see. She wore a tee shirt with dark purple and black stripes along it and a pair of black leggings under a jean skirt. and combat boots. On her neck was a black choker necklace with a silver C dandling from it. She had spunk. Not as far fetched as my Queen's, but she still seemed to have a very rich and creative wardrobe.

"Are you parents with you?" I boldly asked. I looked around curiously.

"Yes." Colinaphen looked up at me with pleading eyes, "Please don't tell them I was messing with the swords. They told me not to."

Jess chuckled ruefully, "Then why, may I ask, did you do it anyway?"

Colinaphen's mouth twitched slightly into a half grin and she said with enthuiasm. "'Cause I'm a warrior princess!"

My heart swelled and I returned her smile. "I think you're more suitable for a Queen."


	2. Chapter 2

My next few weeks were spent awaiting Corlinaphen. I knew that she would be back because she had shared with me in our short talk that she would be coming to visit the museum with her parents twice every week. It was good because it meant I could get to know her better. I could observe and decide if she was entirely worthy. Yes, she had the appearence of a Terabithian queen, but I wasn't sure if her personality fit the bill.

When she would come to the museum, I noticed with joy that she was drawn to the warrior artifacts. It pleased me to know that she was a fighter. We could take out the Scrougures and Hairy vultures together as a powerful duo. I could see it now. _Oh, my Leslie. Forgive me for my mental disloyalty to you. I must move on to an extent, but you will always be my first fair maiden. Always._

I smiled slightly as I watched my little Nymphet queen explore my own personal hell of a museum. She seemed as drawn to this place as I was, yet she didn't have the deep connection to it that brought intense agony along with the lure. I could tell that she didn't yet understand the sacredness of the art here. I had spotted her getting lectured by her stern parents for touching the objects surrounding her. "But, some of these are made of cardboard!" She ignorantly exclaimed. Oh, but didn't she see that that was what made them art? It was taking something so simple and crafting it into beauty that should never be tarnished. She would learn.

It didn't take long for me to realize that though she carried many Leslie-like traits, she could also be an insufferable little brat. She would moan and groan about how she didn't want to leave when her parents would tell her it was time and she had even thrown a screaming fit when she was told that she had to keep an eye on a toddler child who I assumed correctly was her younger sister. I could see Corlinaphen's distaste and frustration with the world around her and I foolishly justified her childish antics with the excuse that she was simply too wise and burdened with a unique and artistic mindset to keep her satisfied with society. She was simply beyond life's solid customs.

I'm not sure when exactly I decided that she was the one. Maybe it was the way she wandered like a spy around the museum, as though she were on an imaginary mission. Or perhaps it was her innocence and grace as she stood along a platform, head held high like a royal beauty. Nevertheless, I was already stringing together my plans to take her. First and foremost, I had to gain not only her trust; but her parents. It wouldn't be too hard. There was an art club I had set up every friday at the church for tormented souls and free spirited innocents that mirrored myself and my Leslie. They were my Terabithian warriors of the outer world. They, like myself and Corlinaphen, didn't belong in the ordinary world. All I had to do was capture my Queen's eye for art and convince her parents it was a good idea and then she would be mine. It would be all too easy if I did my job.

"Beep! Beep! Beep!" I heard a familiar male voice, snapping me out of my trance. He stood six feet tall, black hair slicked back and in a snazzy black blazer that had a very poetic' vibe. I rolled my eyes at my childhood bully and my artistic rival. Scott Hoager. He not only grew to outshine me in art, having several of his works placed in the museum, but he also had several art magazine articals written about his talent.

"Scott." I nodded, my dark eyes cold. Scott, slapped me on the shoulder.

"Aarons! You still work here?" He spoke in a friendly tone, as though I would actually have grown past my eternal hatred for him. To me, he was another monster in my world and he had drawn the line when he insulted the Queen after her death. He had apologized many times for saying it, telling me it was all because he couldn't deal with the trauma and mixed emotions he was feeling back then; but I knew I would never be able to forgive him.

_I guess you're the fastest kid in the class now, huh? _I remember his words like it was yesterday and they still made me sick. I didn't give a damn if he was only a kid. I didn't give a rats ass if he was sorry. Those insensitive words would never stop haunting me.

"Obviously." I said icely. I could see that Colinaphen was being dragged away by her parents and my chance of progressing my capture further was gone for the day.

"Aw, man. I know you'll get something put in here one day." Scott encouraged, but I ignored him. "You were always a good drawer"

I sighed heavilly, correcting him. "Artist. It's artist. Not drawer."

Scott grinned, ever so friendly, but I could sense that he felt the tension. "Oh, yeah. Right. Well, I'm gonna head out. I was just gonna show some pals my new sculptor. I'll see ya around?"

"Sure." I said, nodding curtly. I didn't care to speak with him further. He nodded in return, wordlessly leaving my side.

I left work that day, fuel in my bones. I needed my Queen fast. I needed her to help destroy all of the Scrougre's in my life.


	3. Chapter 3

Colina. I decided I would shorten her name, for myself. My own personal diminutive for her. The Phena was unnecessary. I liked the sound of just plain Colina. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you may question my sick, twisted obsession with a little girl in such a spick and span amount of time; but you see, only a true mad man could understand it.

Monsters such as myself, we are on another astral plane than the norm. We are artist's who had the world at a young riping, only to have it stolen from us before our development of the mind finished. Our subconscious is fixated on filling what was taken from us; so we will snatch without thought, the first resemblance. I am terrible, I am. But, it isn't my fault.

My father never had time for me, you see. I was treated as an old sneaker that no longer fit after my younger sisters were born. and my my mother; don't get me started on my mother. All she did was scold me and sleep like a lump of clay. So when my Leslie entered my life, I was free to grow beyond what I would have. I was a king. I had my royalty stripped from me too soon to comprehend what was happening. Oh, the confusion! So that is why, Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I plead for your sympathy in this case. But, maybe I don't deserve it. I am a madman with no sense of right and wrong.

Perhaps I should be locked away, never to be seen again. I don't belong in this society. My only regret would be my detachment from my home land, Terabithia. My only sanctuary in this cruel world. But would it ever be the same? Now that the public is aware of the deaths of the almost-Queens, there will be shrines around the river. All of their photographed faces and Leslie-like blue eyes staring deep into my soul, surrounded by fake flowers and cheap gift store teddy bears, and crosses. Our space invaded. I truly have so many regrets. Perhaps I should have allowed them to be civilians or dropped them off on the streets so they could return home. I should have turned myself in, but fear and insanity drove me in the wrong direction. I don't deserve to live. I deserve to be drowned in that river myself. I deserve no mercy, but what do I know? Maybe I could shape up and make a change in my life. Maybe I could get intense therapy that could make me normal. Maybe I don't deserve that chance now. I suppose that's for you, Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, to decide.

I approached her parents on a warm Thursday evening. They were admiring the statues together in their rare moment alone. They were social creatures who enjoyed random chats with strangers while their children wandered off alone. I was tracking their every move without them noticing once. It was very tedious and boring. I hated adults and will until the day I die. They're so boring to observe with their constant nagging and customs. Colina's parents were nothing like Leslie's had been. They didn't wear constant smiles to try and keep their eldest daughter, my gem, content and happy.

They just left Colina there with the toddler, who I admittedly grew to dislike. The little girl was a handful, as most children her age are. I do not like toddlers, nor do I like adults. I think the perfect age groups are between the ages of nine and fourteen. After that, the soul often dies and you're left with a cranky dud with not an ounce of imagination within them.

I often wonder, would my Leslie have been a dull, moody, and egocentric lard if she had grown up alongside me? I'd like to think not, but it happens all too often to the seemingly perfect children I've observed in life. Perhaps the river aided us both of the inevitable. To watch my darling shape into such a disdainful woman of ordinary behavior would be worse than losing her the way I did. The death may have been a gift, for in the minds of all who had the pleasure to know her would be a permanent requiem of her beauty and charm. A lullaby. _Her._

I approached the mother of Colina and smiled charmingly at her. I've learned the art of society with sheer observation. I hated most people, but would do anything in my power to get what I wanted or needed. I first glanced into her murky green eyes and memorized every red curl on her round head. I wanted her to feel like a diamond sculptor that deserved all of the attention in the world. I could tell that that was what she wanted based on the gleeful expression she wore when others eyed her that way.

"Hello, Miss. I see you here very often and was wondering if you were here because you're the artistic type?" I asked smoothly. I knew that she was. She clearly had the eye of an artist. I could see it, lurking in her eyes, her inner youngling lifting her head above the nonsense and twinkling with the utmost admiration for the work. I also saw hope and ambition. She clearly had a need and desire to someday have something of hers planted here for the world to see.

She giggled warmly, her puffy cheeks turning magenta. I supposed to an ordinary man, she had the undying potential to be quite beautiful when she smiled. I saw her as a single obstacle to get past. All I wanted at that moment was to sway her to my side so that I could push her out of the way and get to the real prize.

"Well, I have a few pieces. I usually make sculptors. I have since I was a child." She admitted.

I smiled brightly, "Do you? I'd love to see them sometime. It's funny that you mentioned sculptors seeing as I think we could use more around here. Maybe I could talk the boss into allowing you to submit a few."

That of course, was way beyond my power, but she didn't have to know that. I could tell she was eating every word I spoke like candy. She beamed brightly flushing bright pink. "Really? Do you really think you could do that? It would be-It would be such an honor!"

"Yes. I've seen you here so often and I just knew that if someone had that much dedication, they probably have what it takes to make a submission."

"Oh, but I mean...You've never even seen my work. How can you be sure?" she laughed, looking at me with disbelief and contraire.

I smiled, a serious glint in my eye. "Miss, have you ever seen an artist's mannerisms? They're slow and steady, concentrating and sucking in every image, color, and sound around them. Every time they see a piece that resonates with them, they have a shimmering glint in their eyes that only another artist can detect. I'm an artist too. I can sense the gift within you."

Score! She was falling right into it. I could see her previous shifts of discomfort and uncertainly slowly fade as she relaxed into my monologue. I continued to sway her with more bullshit that may or may not be true and by the end of the evening, we had a set up for me to join the family for dinner and to of course, view her sculptors.

The father was a whole different story and the more I got to know him, the more my original scum of a plan dissolved and rearranged. I knew he had to go if I had any hopes of capturing my prey.

Darren, his name was. He was a suspicious man who immediately knew that I was up to no good. He might have caught me in my tracks and prevented all of this if only he had acted a bit sooner.

He was a Philosopher. He studied human behavior and ideals. He could read me very well, unfortunately. He was short and balding, but had piercing blue eyes that were practically X-rays. I knew that he knew when I first arrived for dinner at their home and I couldn't stop staring at Colina and asking her half a dozen questions. Curse my impulsive tendencies.

She hadn't been eating and I took my chance to question her on why. She pouted groggily, forking through her side dishes with distaste. "I hate corn and eating's boring."

"Corn is delicious, Hun. Eat it." Her mother said.

"Lila, what did I tell you about being so demanding." Darren scolded his wife, earning a dark glare.

"I want our daughter to be healthy and grateful for the food put on her plate." She glanced at me, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. It's not always this chaotic here."

Darren and Lila went into irritable, arguementive murmurs amongst one another.

Colina rolled her eyes. "Uh huh."

I gave her a warm smile and leaned in closer. "You know, in Terabithia there's no corn. You can eat anything you want."

"What's that?" she asked, perking up. "The Terabithia?"

"It's a magical land." I whispered to her so only she could hear.

Colina laughed lightly, staring up at me with adoration. "You're off your rocker." I could feel her playfully kick her feet against mine. She instinctively moved in closer, making my heart race.

I laughed back, moving in to whisper in her ear. "I can take you there sometime. You'll see."

Darren caught me with a suspicious look and cleared his throat, making me move up to my original posture that wasn't so close to his child. Darren relaxed but only just. "So, Jess. Have you ever submitted an art project into the museum?"

I wanted to punch him, but responded pleasantly. "No, I actually am more private about my work. It's personal. If I submitted it, I'd feel like I was giving my children away."

"Speaking of children, do you have any?" he asked, his tone rigid. I could tell he was trying to intimidate me while sounding friendly in front of his family.

"No." I answered, "I'm a loner, I guess."

"So you're not married yet?" Colina snickered loudly, "But, you're like really old."

Lila gasped, "Colinaphen!"

"I'm not that old." I retorted with amusement, though I was scorned by her words. "Age is in the heart. You can be a senior citizen at fifteen and a child at ninety. It's a choice, you see. "

Colina kicked me again, looking up at me with a toothy grin. "Does that mean you're a senior citizen at ninety?"

I lightly kicked her back. "No. I'm only thirty four."

Colina jumped to her feet and pressed her cupped hands to my ear and whispered. "It's okay. I like older men." I dropped my fork. She sat down giggling loudly with a condescending smirk as though she had pulled one over on me. Blinking several times, I stared down at my plate feeling as though I'd never be able to take another bite.

Darren cleared his throat again, "Colinaphen, since you're done eating; you wouldn't mind going upstairs to do your homework, right?"

"No! I have to have my root beer float first! It's the Friday night tradition!" She shrieked, clearly hyped up already. "Can Jess stay for the movie with us?"

"No-"

"That sounds great! I'm sure he'd like that a lot! Wouldn't you like that, Jess?" Lila asked happily. I smiled, feeling myself revel in my luck.

"Yes, I'd like that very much."


End file.
